_How Sidonia is again discovered with the groom, Johann
Appelmann._
It was a good day for Johann Appelmann, when his father went to
the Diet at Wollin. For as the old burgomaster held strictly by
his word, and sent him each day to the writing-office, and locked
him up each night in his little room, the poor young man had found
life growing very dull. Now he was his mother's pet, and all his
sins and wickedness were owing to her as much as Sidonia's to her
father. She had petted and spoiled him from his youth up, and
stiffened his back against his father. For whenever worthy Jacob
laid the stick upon the boy's shoulders, she cried and roared, and
called him nothing but an old tyrant. Then how she was always
stuffing him up with tit-bits and dainties, whenever his father's
back was turned; and if there were a glass of wine left in the
bottle, the boy must have it. Then she let him and his brother
beat and abuse all the street-boys and send them away bleeding
like dogs; and some were afraid to complain of them, as they were
sons of the burgomaster; and if others came to the house to do so,
she took good care to send them away with a stout blow or bloody
nose.
And as the lads grew up, how she praised their beauty, and curled
their hair and beards herself, telling them they were not to think
of citizen wives, but to look after the richest and highest, for
the proudest in the land might be glad to get them as husbands. So
she prated away during her husband's absence, for he was in his
office all day and most part of the evening. And God knows, bad
fruit she brought forth with such rearing--not alone in Johann,
but also in his brother Wittich, who, as I afterwards heard, got
on no better in Pudgla, where he held the office of magistrate. So
true it is what the Scripture says, "A wise woman buildeth her
house, but the foolish plucketh it down with her hands" (Prov.
xiv.) Then, another Scripture, "As moths from a garment, so from a
woman wickedness" (Sirach xlii.)
For what did this fool do now? As soon as her upright and worthy
husband had left the house, forgetting and despising all his
admonitions respecting this son Johann, she called together all
her acquaintance, and kept up a gormandising and drinking day
after day, all to comfort her heart's dear pet Johann, who had
been used so harshly by his cross father. Think of her fine,
handsome son being stuck down all day to a clerk's desk. Ah! was
there ever such a tyrant as her husband to any one, but especially
to his own born children?
And so she went on complaining how she had thrown herself away
upon such a hard-hearted monster, and had refused so many fine
young carls, all to wed Satan himself at least. She could not make
out why God had sent such a curse upon her.
When the brave Johann heard all this, he begged money from his
mother, that he might seek another situation. Now that there was a
new duke in Stettin, he would assuredly get employment there, but
then he must treat all the young fellows and pages about the
court, otherwise they would not put in a good word for him.
Therefore he would give them a great carouse at the White Horse in
the Monk's Close, and then assuredly he would be appointed chief
equerry. So she believed every word he uttered; but as old Jacob
had carried away all the money that was in the house with him, she
sold the spices that had just come in, for a miserable sum, also
her own pearl earrings and fur mantle, that her dear heart's son
might have a gay carouse, to console him for all his father's hard
treatment.
_Summa_.--When the rogue had got all he could from her, he
took his father's best mare from the stable, and rode up to
Stettin, where he put up at the White Horse Inn, and soon scraped
acquaintance with all the idle young fellows about the court. So
they drank and caroused until Johann's last penny was spent, but
he had got no situation except in good promises. Truly the young
pages had mentioned him to the Duke, and asked the place of
equerry for their jovial companion, but his Highness, Duke Johann,
had heard too much of his doings at Wolgast, and would by no means
countenance him.
Then Johann bethought himself of Sidonia, for he had heard from
his boon companions that she was in the Duke's house behind St.
Mary's. And he remembered that purse embroidered with pearls and
diamonds which his father had given her, so he went many days
spying about the house, hoping to get a glimpse of Sidonia; but as
she never appeared, he resolved to gain admission by playing the
tailor. Wherefore, he tied on an apron, took a tailor's measure
and shears, and went straight up to the house, asking boldly, if a
young maiden named Sidonia did not live there? for he had got
orders to make her a garment. Now the baker's daughter, Trim
Wehlers, suspected all was not right, for she had seen my gay
youth spying about the house before, and staring up at all the
windows. However, she showed the tailor Sidonia's room, and then
set herself down to watch. But the wonders of Providence are
great. Although she could not hear a word they said, yet all that
passed in Sidonia's room was made evident--it was in this wise.
Just before the house rose up the church of St. Mary's, with all
its stately pillars, and as if God's house wished in wrath to
expose the wickedness of the pair, everything that passed in the
room was shadowed on these pillars; so when Trina observed this,
she ran for the other girls, crying, "Come here, come here, and
see how the two shadows are kissing each other. They can be no
other than Sidonia and her tailor. This would be fine news for our
gracious lord!" They would tell him the whole story when his
Highness came that evening, and so get rid of this proud, haughty
dragon who played the great lady amongst them, and ruled
everything her own way. Therefore they all set themselves to watch
for the tailor when he left Sidonia's room; but the whole day
passed, and he had not done with his measurement. Whereupon they
concluded she must have secreted him in her chamber.
Now the Duke had a private key of the house, and was in the habit
of walking over from Oderburg after dusk almost every evening; but
as there was no sign of him now, they despatched a messenger,
bidding him come quick to his house, and his Grace would hear and
see marvels. How the young girls gathered round him when he
entered, all telling him together about Sidonia. And when at last
he made out the story, his Grace fell into an unwonted rage (for
he was generally mild and good-tempered) that a poacher should get
into his preserves. So he runs to Sidonia's door and tries to open
it, but the bolts are drawn. Then he threatened to send for Master
Hansen if she did not instantly admit him, at which all the girls
laughed and clapped their hands with joy. Whereupon Sidonia at
last came to the door with looks of great astonishment, and
demanded what his Grace could want. It was bed-time, and so, of
course, she had locked her door to lie down in safety.
_Ille_.-"Where is that tailor churl who had come to her in
the morning?"
_Illa_.-"She knew nothing about him, except that he had gone
away long ago."
So the girls all screamed "No, no, that is not true! She and the
tailor had been kissing each other, as they saw by the shadows on
the wall, and making love."
Here Sidonia appeared truly horrified at such an accusation, for
she was a cunning hypocrite; and taking up the coif-block
[Footnote: A block for head-gears.] with an air of offended
dignity, said, turning to his Grace, "It was this coif-block,
methinks, I had at the window with me, and may those be accursed
who blackened me to your face." So the Duke half believed her, and
stood silent at the window; but Trina Wehlers cried out, "It is
false! it is false! a coif-block could not give kisses!" Whereupon
Sidonia in great wrath snatched up a robe that lay near her on a
couch, to hit the baker's daughter with it across the face. But
woe! woe! under the robe lay the tailor's cap, upon which all the
girls screamed out, "There is the cap! there is the cap! now we'll
soon find the tailor," pushing Sidonia aside, and beginning to
search in every nook and corner of the room. Heyday, what an
uproar there was now, when they caught sight of the tailor himself
in the chimney and dragged him down; but he dashed them aside with
his hands, right and left, so that many got bleeding noses, hit
his Grace, too, a blow as he tried to seize him, and rushed out of
the house.
Still the Duke had time to recognise the knave of Wolgast, and was
so angry at his having escaped him, that he almost beat Sidonia.
"She was at her old villainy. No good would ever come of her. He
saw that now with his own eyes. Therefore this very night she and
her baggage should pack off, to the devil if she chose, but he had
done with her for ever."
When Sidonia found that the affair was taking a bad turn, she
tried soft words, but in vain. His Highness ordered up her two
serving wenches to remove her and her luggage. And so, to the
great joy of the other girls, who laughed and screamed, and
clapped their hands, she was turned out, and having nowhere to go
to, put up once more at the White Horse Inn.
Now Johann knew nothing of this until next morning, when, as he
was toying with one of the maids, he heard a voice from the
window, "Johann! Johann! I will give thee the diamond." And
looking up, there was Sidonia. So the knave ran to her, and swore
he was only jesting with the maid in the court, for that he would
marry no one but her, as he had promised yesterday, only he must
first wait till he was made equerry, then he would obtain letters
of nobility, which could easily be done, as he was the son of a
_patricius_; but gold, gold was wanting for all this, and to
keep up with his friends at the court. Perhaps this very day he
might get the place, if he had only some good claret to entertain
them with; therefore she had better give him a couple of diamonds
from the purse. And so he went on with his lies and humbug, until
at last he got what he wanted.
Sidonia now felt so ashamed of her degradation, that she resolved
to leave the White Horse, and take a little lodging in the Monk's
Close until Johann obtained the post of equerry. But in vain she
hoped and waited. Every day the rogue came, he begged for another
pearl or diamond, and if she hesitated, then he swore it would be
the last, for this very day he was certain of the situation. At
last but two diamonds were left, and beg as he might, these he
should not have. Then he beat her, and ran off to the White Horse,
but came back again in less than an hour. Would she forgive him?
Now they would be happy at last; he had received his appointment
as chief equerry. His friends had behaved nobly and kept their
word, therefore he must give them a right merry carouse out of
gratitude; she might as well hand him those two little diamonds.
Now they would want for nothing at last, but live like princes at
the table of his Highness the Duke. Would she not be ready to
marry him immediately?
Thereupon the unfortunate Sidonia handed over her two last jewels,
but never laid eyes on the knave for two days after, when he came
to tell her it was all up with him now, the traitors had deceived
him, he had got no situation, and unless she gave him more money
or jewels he never could marry her. She had still golden armlets
and a gold chain, let her go for them, he must see them, and try
what he could get for them. But he begged in vain. Then he
stormed, swore, threatened, beat her, and finally rushed out of
the house declaring that she might go to the devil, for as to him
he would never give himself any further trouble about her.